Worthy of Her
by ABadPlanWellExecuted
Summary: The Doctor and Rose finally make it to the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire, but trouble, naturally, is not far behind.
1. Where To Next?

On May 13th, 1337 A.D., the sun rose up over the Yorkshire Wolds and drove back the delicate tendrils of mist clinging to the land. In the fields, farmers were already hard at work tilling the soil for the spring planting. Around the small buildings of the village, children fetched pails of water and brought in firewood. In the meadows beyond, sheep were peacefully grazing.

All in all, it was a lovely, pastoral scene, one which was suddenly broken by a loud whoop as a pair of figures came racing around the corner of the village church. A man and a woman, him in a pin-striped suit that absolutely failed to blend in and her in a more traditional dress and clutching a feathered bundle, ran as fast as they could toward a large blue box parked some distance away. Chasing them, and shattering the remaining peace of the morning, was a mob of angry villagers.

As they pulled away from the village, the woman stopped and turned back toward one of the houses.

"No, no, no, keep going," the man shouted, running back to grab her hand.

"But the chicken," she shouted back. "I've still got the bloody chicken!"

He responded by grabbing the bird from her and tossing it quickly and gently to the ground. "It can find its own way home, I'm sure," he panted as he pulled her along.

"Watch it, Doctor!" she shrieked, but too late–they were already crashing through a puddle of muddy water. "Oh, that's going to take forever to get clean," she moaned, seeing her skirt splattered with mud.

Behind them, the throng of peasants armed with pitchforks, clubs, and hammers gave chase, yelling out curses and a variety of threats.

"Key, key, key," muttered the Doctor, as they ran toward the TARDIS. He was patting down his pockets with his free hand.

"Here," gasped Rose, as she pulled the chain from off her neck. She tossed it to the Doctor, and he quickly unlocked the doors, glancing over his shoulder at the approaching mob.

"Again, we're quite sorry" he yelled over his shoulder, as Rose and he nipped inside just in time to avoid capture. "Really, could have happened to anybody!"

He slammed the doors shut and met his companion's eyes. Rose stared back at him silently and then leaned forward to pull something out of his hair. She held it up so he could see. It was a chicken feather.

They both began to laugh hysterically.

"Oh my god," Rose gasped, trying to catch her breath. "You…you with the pig." She was leaning back against the railing to hold herself up. "Oh my god!" Tears of mirth were running down her face.

"Me! What about you, with all the 'Oh, don't worry Mister Village Leader, I'm sure you're hair won't stay blue!" The Doctor cackled at the memory. "I'm not sure he appreciated your reassurances."

"Yeah, well, he'll see I'm right in the end," said Rose, recovering enough to wipe the mud off of her cheeks. "Oh, this is gonna take more than a shower. I'm going to need a proper bath to get cleaned up. We're not going to rush off anywhere in particular just yet, are we?"

The Doctor waved her off and walked over to the console. "Nah. We probably shouldn't dematerialize with that lot right on top of us." He gestured to the monitor, and Rose could see the peasants still circling the TARDIS in apparent confusion. "Don't want to start a panic. We'll give them an hour or two to get bored before we take off. You have time for a leisurely bath. And none too soon," he added, wrinkling his nose at the smell.

"Oh, shut it," she said, laughing and flicking some mud at him. "You're not so clean yourself."

The Doctor glanced down at his muddy trousers and trainers. "S'pose you're right," he said. "All right then, baths all around!"

"So where and when are we going next?" asked Rose with a grin.

"Ladies' choice," said the Doctor grandly. "All of time and space at your disposal – where would you like to go?"

"Hmm," said Rose, thinking it over. "I dunno yet. I'll tell you once I've gotten cleaned up a bit." She headed back toward her room.

When Rose returned an hour and half later, the Doctor was busily patching some wiring into the TARDIS console. The click of her footsteps distracted him for a moment, and sparks flew up from the wires. "Ouch," he complained, sticking his finger in his mouth. He glanced up at her. "Oh," he said blankly. "You look nice."

Rose was wearing a knee-length black dress with elbow sleeves that hid an awful lot of skin and showed an awful lot of curve. She had on heels – honest-to-god heels! – and had her hair pinned back into some sort of elaborate knot that shouldn't stay in place but did anyhow via, the Doctor assumed, some sort of female magic. The whole effect was…sophisticated.

"Thanks," said Rose, amused. She sat on the jump seat and wondered if she was just imagining him checking out her legs.

"So what's the occasion?" said the Doctor, somewhat apprehensively, as he went back to fiddling with the TARDIS wiring.

"Well, you asked where we should go next," said Rose. "And I thought of just the place."

"And where's that?"

"The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire," said Rose dramatically.

The Doctor poked his head up. "You're kidding," he said in disbelief. "Tell me that you're kidding."

"Oh, come on," she coaxed. "Third time's the charm, yeah? I tell you what, we'll only go somewhere on-planet. If we land on any satellites, we hop right back in the TARDIS and get the hell out of there."

"Rose, you do remember I died the last time we ended up there?"

"And yet, here you are," said Rose dryly. "Hanging around like the last guest at the party."

Under the console, the Doctor snorted.

"Now, don't be difficult," said Rose. "I want to see, what did you say that one time? Art, culture, fancy food? Besides, the TARDIS thought it was a good idea—she put this dress out for me when I was done with my bath."

The Doctor sighed as he stood up. "All right, but if I die again, you're not—NOT! — dressing me in Howard's pajamas."


	2. Art and Culture

By the time the TARDIS materialized in the 83rd docking bay of New Victoria City, the Doctor was regaling Rose with facts and figures about the empire. It was fortunate, she thought with a smile, that it never took him long to find his enthusiasm.

"So we've definitely got it right this time, then?" she interrupted, stepping out of the TARDIS. They were in a great hangar of sorts, but bright and airy. Rose looked with interest at the wide variety of spaceships parked all around them.

"Oh, yes, I should think so," the Doctor answered. "This is several hundred years after our last visit. Everything's sorted out nicely. Back on track!" He gave her a bright smile.

"Good to know," she said, as they joined a queue of people entering the city. Everyone seemed to be checking in at some sort of kiosk. "Will they let us in?"

The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper. "Course they will," he said with a smile. "Just a little security check. Hello, I'm the Doctor," he said cheerfully to the clerk as they reached the window. He held up his 'ID' for the clerk's inspection. "Just here for the day, sight-seeing and such."

The clerk nodded, looking bored, and printed out a receipt of some sort. The Doctor tucked it into his pockets, where, Rose assumed, it would never again see the light of day. Then the Doctor surreptitiously passed Rose the psychic paper under the edge of the counter. She held it up in turn to the clerk.

"Dame Rose of the Powell Estate," she said, mirroring the Doctor's cheerful tone. She figured, as long as she was the one in charge of the psychic paper, why not? "Visiting for the day." She collected her receipt from the clerk and joined the Doctor, handing him back the psychic paper.

"Dame Rose?" said the Doctor, amused.

"What?" said Rose. "It's…culture. Besides, it's my title. Seems only right I get to trot it out once in a while." She and the Doctor passed through an open doorway and got on an escalator to reach the city proper.

"Ouch!" said Rose suddenly. She pulled her hand away from the railing and saw a small drop of blood appear on her fingertip.

"What is it?" asked the Doctor.

"Hmm, nothing, I guess," said Rose. "Think I just found a sharp edge or something." She put her finger in her mouth, but the bleeding had already stopped. "Nothing to worry about," she said breezily. "So what d'you think we should see first?"

Human. She was pure-blood human.

Across the city, an older and somewhat portly man gripped the edge of his antique desk as he read the report on his viewscreen. Human, and titled, too. Unbelievable genetics. And young—young and beautiful.

He called for his majordomo. There was no time to waste. So many would be pursuing her.

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"I just…huh."

"Mmm-hmm."

The Doctor and Rose stood side-by-side in front of an enormous painting. They had decided to visit the New Victoria Museum of Modern Art to "take in some culture," as the Doctor put it, but it was proving to be a baffling experience.

There had been several somewhat phallic sculptures of DNA helixes, three-dimensional projections of nude women (Rose found this reassuring – apparently, some things never change), and a particularly disturbing picture of a Dalek surrounded by rainbows and shooting flowers from its gun with a caption reading "Love Thy Enemy" (the Doctor said it was all purely for shock value). However, this new painting had to take the cake.

"So," said Rose, tilting her head to one side to try to make sense of the picture, "what style of art is this?"

"Umm," answered the Doctor. "Post-neoclassical-modernism? Pre-pop-modern-classicalism? Nouveau-cross-transcendentalism?" He tilted his head to the side, matching hers. "It's certainly…bright."

Rose laughed. "Yes, bright. Good job I've got you here to tell me these things."

"Hey now, keeping track of trends in art is ridiculously complicated," he protested. "Everybody's got their opinions, and you have to listen to them yammer on about them, and in the end, it's all relative, anyway. Better to just stick with what you like," he sniffed.

"Yeah, I guess," Rose agreed. "Tell you what, I don't know what I like yet, but I know this isn't it."

The Doctor pursed his lips. "Agreed. Dame Rose, how about we leave these great works of art to appreciate themselves and go and find ourselves some culturally uplifting food instead?" He offered her his arm.

"Sir Doctor, I thought you'd never ask," she replied with a grin.

The Doctor and Rose sat on an open-air terrace looking out over one of the city's main hubs. Beneath their feet, the floor seemed to ripple like water with an ever-changing pattern of blue waves. At first, Rose found it a little disorienting, but once seated, she had to admit that it was beautiful, even if she kept expecting her shoes to get wet.

They had a glorious view from their table. New Victoria City was laid out in three dimensions, with endless skyscrapers wrapped with walking paths at each level. In the open air between, there was a network of travel platforms designed to transport people around the city at high speed. While they waited for their meal, Rose indulged in a bit of people watching, and the Doctor showed off his knowledge about all the different aliens they saw.

"Ooh, look, there's an Eerinod," he said, pointing out a small, orange, skinny creature. "They're a bit dull, but fabulous at organizing—extremely desirable as secretaries and such. They'll end up causing quite a bit of strife with the personal assistants' union in about fifty years' time—lots of pointless arguments about filing systems and collating. Ah, and look over there," he added, nodding toward a dog-like humanoid in a long green robe. "Syronin. Really top-notch mathematicians. Completely brilliant. I'd enjoy visiting with them, except," he leaned in toward Rose and lowered his voice to a whisper, "they've got absolutely terrible breath." Rose giggled.

"D'you know," she said, "I almost need a little checklist, like a bird-watcher, yeah? So I could mark off each kind of alien I come across."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her. "That'd be great the next time we're running for our lives from something huge and hairy. 'Oh, excuse me, but could we pause a minute so I could check you off?'"

"I could start a club," mused Rose, ignoring him. "The Royal Society for the Protection of Aliens. We could get a charter."

"Isn't that what we do already? Besides, you've already got the rarest of the rare aliens sitting right across from you, taking you out to lunch," he added, pouting a little. "Once you check me off the list, everything else is just a let-down."

Rose grinned at him. "S'pose you're right. And where is lunch, by the way?"

Almost on cue, a small, flying robot hummed over to their table and set down a large plate between them. With a flourish, it presented them with two fork-like utensils. Then, it dipped itself forward in a little bow and zoomed away.

Rose eyed the food. It looked like a pyramid built out of little square sponges in various shades of green. It was not remotely appetizing.

"What'd you say this was called again?" she asked.

"Bachleyna," answered the Doctor thoughtfully as he poked at the little stacked squares. They jiggled delicately. "It's supposed to be the local delicacy. I've never had it before."

"What's it made of?"

"I've no idea," admitted the Doctor. He looked reluctant to try it.

"Well," said Rose, scooping up a square on her fork, "that's reassuring." She popped the bite in her mouth.

"How is it?" he asked.

Rose chewed thoughtfully. "Meh," she said, swallowing. "It's a bit like eggs. Aren't you going to have some?"

He grinned at her. "I'm waiting to see if you go blind first."

She rolled her eyes. "Coward. Go on, try it."

"Sam-I-Am, Sam-I-Am, I do not like green eggs and ham," he muttered, but took a bite. "Hmm," he said, thinking it over. "You know, you're right."

"Am I?

"Yep. 'Meh, indeed.'"

"So…chips later?"

"Oh, yes."


	3. Everybody Loves a Party

After lunch, the Doctor and Rose meandered along the walking paths window shopping and sightseeing. The city was enormous, and everywhere they went, there was something new to see.

"So is this the way it used to be?" asked Rose as they watched a "street-side" low-gravity dance performance involving two humans and a jellyfish-like alien. "I mean, before time got disrupted with the Jagrafess and the Daleks and all that?"

"Eh, more or less," said the Doctor. "Mind, there might still be some minor alterations to their traditions, cultural mores, and that sort of thing. But for the most part, it's all straightened out. Timelines can be surprisingly resilient sometimes."

Rose hesitated for a moment and then spoke again. "D'you think Jack helped put it to rights?" she asked quietly.

The Doctor's face went carefully blank, and she wondered whether he was trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't reveal too much or some way to distract her. Either way, he never wanted to talk about what happened to Jack, and she was about to say so when something fluttered at the periphery of her vision.

A large butterfly-like insect approached and hovered in front of her. "Doctor, what is this?" she asked, amazed. It seemed to have paper wings and a metallic body. "Is it alive?"

"Hello there," said the Doctor, holding out his hand for the butterfly to land on. It settled delicately on the end of his outstretched fingers and began to unfold its wings. "No, it's not 'alive,' at least not in the technical sense." He pointed to the body. "It's robotic, probably with some amount of artificial intelligence. But, if I'm not mistaken," he said, examining the wings, "it is bringing us a letter of some sort. Ah, an invitation, I think!"

"Wow, very showy. Beats the Royal Mail, at least. But who'd send us an invitation? D'you know anyone here?" Rose wondered. The paper wings were still unfurling like flower petals, so she couldn't make out a name yet.

"Well," said the Doctor, a bit grandly, "I do travel around a lot. Get noticed, if you will. It's hardly surprising that I would merit the attentions of…"

"Ooh," interrupted Rose. "It's addressed to me!"

"What!" The Doctor whipped out his glasses and peered at the invitation.

"'To Dame Rose of the Powell Estate,'" read Rose, trying not to laugh at his outraged expression. "'We request the honor of your company at a ball to be held tonight at the Wavelen Estate, beginning at the 16th hour.' Huh, sort of last-minute, isn't it?"

"Hmm!" the Doctor muttered. "They'll probably be sending me a separate invitation. Perhaps deliver it in person, or…"

"'You are welcome,'" interrupted Rose, reading, "'to bring your footman, the Doctor, as your escort. Please RSVP with the correspondence droid. We look forward to your charming company. Sincerely, Sir Heren Wavelen III.'" She looked up from the invitation with a grin. "Footman? That'll teach you to not introduce yourself as 'Sir Doctor,' eh? So, can we go?"

The Doctor looked extremely put out. "Footman! _Footman_! Ridiculous!"

"Hey," said Rose. "First party I went to with you, I got called your mistress, concubine, and/or prostitute. Seems to me like footman isn't so bad."

"Yes, but she thought you were my wife first," protested the Doctor.

"And," Rose continued, "who was it who introduced me to Queen Victoria as a half-naked feral child he'd been chasing across all of Scotland? You should just be happy I haven't told my mum about that."

"Well…" the Doctor hedged. But Rose would have none of it.

"Seems to me like footman is a very respectable position, comparatively," she said firmly as she detached the invitation from the droid. "I think we should go and find out who this Sir Wavelen is, at least. C'mon," she added in a coaxing voice, switching her tactics and batting her eyelashes at him, "I'm all dressed up. I wanna dance at a fancy ball." She stuck the tip of her tongue between her teeth and smiled up at him.

The Doctor frowned. He was fairly sure that he could come up with other objections, but she was giving him _that_ smile, the one that usually resulted in a substantial drop in his IQ. "Oh, all right," he said resignedly as he inputted their response into the correspondence droid. "But I'm not wearing a tux."

That evening, they arrived at the Wavelen Estate, which was made up of the top six floors of one of the most prominent skyscrapers. It was lit up with little white lights like stars, and a small crowd of guests was gathering at the entrance.

"Posh," decided Rose.

"Snobby," the Doctor replied. He was clearly still pouting.

"Ah, come on," said Rose. She nudged him with her elbow. "I bet they'll have nibbles."

"They'd better have," he muttered darkly.

"Really excellent nibbles," she continued, as they approached the entrance. "The kinds with different sorts of cheeses. Ooh, and fancy drinks!" She pulled out the invitation and presented it to the doorman, who bowed and let them in.

They entered into a gracefully appointed foyer, which, to Rose's eyes, seemed to combine the futuristic materials they had seen throughout the city with an old-fashioned elegance – marble facades, Doric columns, and the like. She found the combination attractive if somewhat disorienting.

The Doctor and Rose followed the other guests through the hall and up to a large doorway, where a man in a tuxedo was announcing each guest as they entered a large ballroom. He held up a white-gloved hand, indicating that they should wait as the couple in front of them walked through the door.

"The Lord and Lady Chernadle," he called out in a deep, carrying voice. Then he waved them forward and leaned his head toward the Doctor. "Your names, sir?" he asked in a polite voice.

"The Doctor and Rose Tyler," the Doctor answered, ignoring a sniff from Rose over the loss of her title. "I am _not_ her footman," he added firmly.

The gentleman frowned. "Ah, I see. Dame Rose?" he smiled at her, and Rose smiled back.

"That's right," she said, elbowing the Doctor a little.

"Dame Rose of the Powell Estate," boomed the man to the room at large, "and her escort, the Doctor." His announcement seemed to draw quite a bit of attention, and many heads looked up, ostensibly to catch a glimpse of Rose.

"But…but he's supposed to announce the names as they're given," spluttered the Doctor as they stepped into a large ballroom.

"I don't care," said Rose in amusement.

"And why are they all looking at you?" he demanded, glaring at the room at large.

"I don't care," she repeated. After more than a year of traveling with the Doctor, Rose found it quite refreshing to be the center of attention for once, and besides, the Doctor's indignation was just too funny. "Ah, see, what did I say? Nibbles!" She pointed to a table covered with hors d'oeuvres and led them over to it.

"Something strange is going on here," muttered the Doctor. "We need to investigate. Rose, you've never been here before. There's no reason for them to know who you are."

"Cfan ift waift a fhew minuthes?" she asked with her mouth full of a delicious crispy wrap…thing.

He just rolled his eyes as she swallowed. "What?" she asked. "We never got a chance to go get those chips. I'm hungry."

"I'm serious, Rose. Could be anything going on. A trap, a government coup, an alien invasion, you name it. We need to keep our wits about us."

"All right," she said. "But just one thing first…" She took his hand and smiled up at him. "See, you were about to ask me to dance."

"Was I?" he said sarcastically. "Well of course. Imminent alien invasion, sure, but that's no reason not to dance."

Rose squeezed his hand. "Oh come on, it'll let us blend in and scope out the room, yeah? Unless," she let her voice trail off for a moment. "Well, unless of course, you've forgotten your moves. Again. Wouldn't want you to, y'know, embarrass yourself." She put on her most innocent expression, but her lips twitched in spite of herself.

"You," growled the Doctor, "are an impossible person. C'mon then." He led her out onto the dance floor. With a tug of her hand, he swept Rose into his arms and started to lead her in a waltz, but his eyes were still darting around the room suspiciously.

"Try to look a bit less 'Oncoming Storm,' eh?" suggested Rose as she turned with him. "You're going to put people right off. Dancing's supposed to be fun."

"Fun…" he muttered.

"Yes, fun, so stop pinching so tight," she said, wriggling in his grasp a little. "Y'know, I don't think we've ever waltzed before. 'Course, the old you did pretty well with swing, as I recall."

"Yes, I was there," he said dryly.

"Mmm, yeah," she agreed in mock-thoughtfulness. "You were probably the best dance partner I've had. Though Jack could do a really fierce tango…I dunno, it might be a toss-up." This comment was tossed out lightly, but Rose didn't have to wait long for him to take the bait.

"When did you dance the tango with Jack?" the Doctor demanded incredulously, his attention momentarily diverted onto her.

"Oh, you know," said Rose vaguely. "One of those times." She grinned at him wickedly with her tongue curling over one of her front teeth. Drawing out the Doctor's jealous side was an art form, one that she prided herself on mastering.

She expected him to splutter at her, so she was a little taken aback when he just looked at her for a moment, considering. "Well," he said, leaning closer to murmur into her ear, "I imagine that Jack was quite the dancer—god knows he had enough experience." His breath tickled the side of her face, and her heart beat picked up. "Still, I think that you'd rather be here dancing the waltz with me." His voice was laced with more than a touch of arrogance and just a little bit of heat.

Rose caught her breath as he shifted the angle of his head and they looked into each other's eyes. She never quite saw these moments coming, when their casual flirting would suddenly turn into something more, when the air between them was on fire and the universe was falling away until there was nothing left but them. Her lips parted as she drew in a breath, and his dark eyes dropped to her mouth. Then, without warning, he stepped back and guided her into a spin, breaking the moment.

The rest of the world intruded once more, the walls fell back into place, and they danced in silence.

"D'you know, I think that boy over there is looking at me," commented Rose a minute later as they twirled about.

"They're all looking at you," the Doctor grumbled. "You'd think you were dancing starkers."

"What can I say, your ship picks out a mean dress," said Rose with a grin. "But something about him is different. He's not just glancing at me, he's _staring_."

The Doctor glanced over at the youth. He looked to be about 17 or 18 years old with dark hair, and he was dressed in some sort of formal uniform. Standing next to him was a group of boys around the same age. "Well, now, so he is."

"Should I go talk to him, d'you think?"

The Doctor didn't answer right away, and Rose thought, for just a moment, she felt his hand tighten reflexively on her waist, and then the pressure was gone.

"I suppose so," he said slowly. "I tell you what. While you go have a chat with him, I'll go see what I can find out from the kitchen staff. After all," he said with a lopsided grin, "I'm supposed to be your servant. I'll be able to slip right in.

"Try to find out why you're suddenly so popular and anything about this Wavelen fellow. And don't let them know who you actually are. And don't—DON'T—let them know who I am. As long as I'm incognito, we'd best take advantage of it."

"Got it," said Rose, and as the song came to an end, they stepped apart from each other. The Doctor gave her a small bow.

"Thank you for the dance, Dame Rose," he said in all politeness but with a twinkle in his eye. "And be careful," he added in a low voice. Rose rolled her eyes but curtsied back and headed toward the side of the room where the boy waited while the Doctor slipped out of the crowd and toward the door where the servants were bustling in and out with trays of food and drink.

As Rose approached the boy, she saw his friends sniggering. One of them punched him in the shoulder, and the boy gamely tried to wave them off. Rose could see a blush creeping up his cheeks.

_Blimey_, she thought. _He's a bit young._ She wondered if it was her time traveling with the Doctor that made the boy seem so immature or if those few years that separated their ages really made that big a difference.

The boy's friends finally took the hint, and they retreated a short distance away as Rose walked up to the young man.

"Hello," she said with a smile that never failed to win friends. "I'm Rose, Rose Tyler. Noticed you over here while I was dancing, and thought I'd come over and introduce myself properly."

"H..hello," he answered nervously. "Um, I'm Randolf. Randolf Wavelen."

"Nice to meet you, Randolf. Ah, so is Heren Wavelen your dad, then?"

"Yes," he answered but seemed at a loss for what else to say.

"Well," said Rose, fishing for a conversation topic, "nice party. Very posh. D'you do these often?"

"I suppose," he said again, biting his lip. He seemed to be screwing up his courage. "Do…do you like parties?"

"Sure, what's not to like," she answered. "Food, drinks, dancing. Seeing friends. Meeting new and interesting people," she added with just a bit of flirtation. Oh yes, he was definitely blushing.

"Yes, that is nice," he said with feeling. "But…but maybe it's a bit loud in here. Would you like to come for a walk with me? Just around the house a bit?"

"Randolf, I'd love to," she answered with a grin. After facing Slitheen and Daleks and werewolves, Rose had no concerns about wandering off with this boy who seemed like a strong breeze would knock him over. "C'mon then," she said, threading her arm through his.

They slipped out through a door and into a long hallway lined with windows overlooking the city. "Oh, it's beautiful," she said, admiring the view. Every skyscraper seemed to sparkle with a million tiny lights, and an occasional flash, like a shooting star, would go weaving through the towers. Down below, the transportation network glowed and pulsed with red and blue light trails.

"Come a little farther down. There's a wonderful view of the Aperneed Center and the Hall of Traditions," said Randolf, pulling her along.

"So," said Rose, remembering her task, "I haven't been in the city very long. What is it that your dad does?"

"He's the First Minister of Ancient Rites," answered Randolf as though it were something everybody ought to know.

"Ah," said Rose vaguely. "Ancient Rites, right. And what's the party for, then? Must have been sorta last minute—I only got my invite this afternoon."

Randolf stopped. "The party's for you, of course," he said, turning to her and taking one of her hands.

Her eyebrows went up. "For me? What for?"

"My dad's really big on traditions," said Randolf apologetically. "Being the Minister and everything. I would have just asked you, but he says it has to be done according to the Honor Codes. Anyway, I'm really sorry about this."

"Sorry about what?" asked Rose suspiciously as she tried to tug her hand away. He was gripping it tighter, and suddenly, she felt a small prick of a needle in the palm of her hand. "What have you…oh..." Spots started to swim in front of her eyes.

Randolf caught her as she stumbled forward and helped guide her to the floor. He took the palm-sized pressure syringe off his hand. "Don't worry, I'll take good care of you," he said quietly. "I really like you, Rose."

Her last thought as the darkness swept over her mind was that the Doctor was going to be just about unbearable once he realized he had been right.


	4. Kitchen Maids and Serrated Blades

The kitchens were buzzing with activity when the Doctor slipped in through a side door. Everyone was hard at work, dashing here and there, and the chances of finding someone with whom to have a private chat seemed low. The Doctor was considering leaving when he spotted a young woman standing at a dishwashing station, struggling to latch the door of the sanitation machine. He edged over to her.

"Hello, I'm the Doctor," he said cheerfully. "Would you like a hand?" Without waiting for a reply, he nudged her hands aside and started inspecting the latch.

"Oh yes, thanks," she said, almost tearfully. She leaned back against the counter. "I've been shifting these damn dishes for hours but the pile of them never gets any lower, and now this stupid thing starts to play up."

"The depravity of inanimate objects," agreed the Doctor with a grin. "So what's your name?"

"Clara," she answered. "I'm one of the housemaids. The kitchen's not really my regular domain, but everything's gone crazy for this party."

"Hmm, is that so?" said the Doctor. "Last-minute fete, is it?" He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and started making adjustments to the door handle.

"Well, sure," said Clara. "So…when I was helping Jim cart out some of the food, I thought I saw you with a blond woman…the one they introduced as Dame Rose?"

"Yes, that's right. I'm her…footman," the Doctor replied with a smirk. "Ah, there we go! Lovely!" he enthused as the door to the machine clicked properly into place.

"Oh, genius," said Clara with feeling. She started stuffing dishes into the racks. "So do you think that you'll be working here, you know, afterwards?"

"After what?" asked the Doctor, wincing as Clara violently shoved the machine's door closed. He had a feeling he knew how the latch had gotten damaged in the first place.

"After they get married, silly," she answered.

"After who gets married?" demanded the Doctor, his eyes narrowing.

"Dame Rose and young Master Wavelen, of course," said Clara, looking at him oddly. "Do you think you'll accompany them on the honeymoon?"

The Doctor's mouth hung open, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words. "Honeymoon," he finally said. "Married? Rose? _Honeymoon?_"

Clara giggled. "Well, what'd you think it was all for?"

"What, so this is some sort of engagement party? But…but, Rose doesn't even know this Wavelen person," objected the Doctor. "This Wavelen person doesn't even know Rose. Why would they be getting married?"

Clara looked at him oddly. "Well, you'd probably know better than me, but I heard that Dame Rose has really gorgeous genetics. The rumor's that she's pure human. _Pure human._ Is that true?" she asked curiously.

"Yes," said the Doctor. "But why should that matter?"

"Oh, you know how the old families are," said Clara with a wave of her hand. "It's all about who can prove their bloodline's the purest. Master Wavelen has scan-droids everywhere, looking for girls with good genes. Silly, really, but there you go." She suddenly closed her mouth and glanced around, checking if anyone had heard her. "I really shouldn't criticize. My mum's always warning me about that. I'll get fired," she said nervously.

"So young Master Wavelen is going to propose to Rose tonight, on account of her gorgeous…genetics?" said the Doctor, regaining his sense of humor. "If that's the case, I really need to get back out to the ballroom. Wouldn't want to miss the show." He grinned. Oh, he was going to tease her about this something fierce.

"Well, no," said Clara. She was looking at him strangely again, as though he was missing something obvious. "He's going to marry her tonight. They are going to do the whole Honor Bride thing. Master Wavelen was insisting on it."

"What do you mean, Honor Bride?" he asked, his smile disappearing.

"Not from around here, are you?" observed Clara. "It's an old tradition—the gentleman kidnaps the lady he wants to marry, and then his rivals have a chance to capture her. If he can hang onto her for long enough, he gets to marry her. It's all about codes of honor and chivalry and all that. Mind, back in the days of the Great Calamity, it was a lot rougher; girls were pulled off the street, forced into marriage—well, half the population was dead so everything went all to hell. Now it's all quite civilized. I mean, they _did_ send her an invitation, right?"

"Funny, it didn't mention this part of the party," snapped the Doctor. "Rose! I need to get back to Rose." He ran out of the kitchen and back to the ballroom.

The Doctor strode through the room crowded with dancers, searching left and right for a blond head. He hopped up onto a chair and scanned the room. But Rose and the young man she had been planning on talking to were gone.

_Calm down and think_, he said to himself. _If they took her so that this Wavelen can marry her, then there must be a wedding planned as well. If I can't find her now, I can get her back at the ceremony. Worst thing that could happen is she gets married, _again. He shook his head and thought that he would need to add this to the long list of things that Jackie Tyler must never find out about. So _who would know where the wedding will be?_ The Doctor smiled to himself. _If you want to know what's going on, work in the kitchens._ He ran back to find Clara.

She was struggling to push a heavy cartload of dishes. "You again," she said. "I've got to get back to work."

"Clara, I need you to answer my questions. Where and when are they going to be married?" the Doctor demanded.

Clara rolled her eyes. "Well how should I know? It's a secret, isn't it?"

He put out a hand to stop the cart. "What do you mean a secret?" he asked, his anxiety rising.

"The ceremony's a secret," she explained impatiently. "They'll have a proper wedding celebration when they get back."

"Get back from where?"

"From the honeymoon, of course," she snapped. "They'll get married in secret and then they'll board one of the interplanetary transports. Spend a year traveling, getting to know each other, conceiving new heirs for Master Wavelen." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, no," said the Doctor fiercely. "No, no, no, no, no. That's not going to happen, Clara. I'm getting her back. Rose is leaving here with me, tonight." He paced back and forth for a moment. "What if she objects to the marriage?"

Clara looked confused for a moment. "Why would she object? The Wavelens are a right powerful family. Plenty of money, good bloodlines and all that. Anyway," she said quietly before the Doctor could interrupt, "I don't think Master Wavelen would listen to her. He's the First Minister of Ancient Rites, after all. Big on following the old traditions."

"How do I find her?" shouted the Doctor, his dark eyes flashing.

She stepped back from him, suddenly looking frightened. "I don't know where she is," she said, shaking her head. "But they'll be making an announcement for the challengers any minute now. If you want to get her back, go talk to the Honor Guard." She pointed a shaky finger toward the ballroom.

When Rose awoke, she found herself lying on a couch in what looked like the front room of a posh flat. Behind the couch, a large window looked out onto the city. A nearby table was laden with the same sort of food that Rose had sampled at the party.

She sat up and rubbed her head. _How did I get here?_ _Did I fall asleep in one of the rooms?_ Looking at the view from out the window, she suddenly remembered standing in the hallway with…Randolf!

"God, he drugged me!" she said indignantly. She rose shakily to her feet.

"Careful, my dear," said a pleasant male voice. "You may still be a bit dizzy."

Rose's head whipped around. On the other side of the room, an older man sat with a drink in hand, watching her with a huge smile.

"Who are you?" Rose demanded. "Where's the Doctor?"

"I am Sir Heren Wavelen the Third. Your escort is still at the party, I believe. At my home. This," he said, gesturing around the room, "is just one of my many rental properties. It makes a comfortable place to stay hidden, don't you think?

"You have been captured under the Ancient Rites and are now an honor-bound captive." He indicated the table behind her. "Please, help yourself if you are hungry. We will be here for quite some time yet."

"Oh, I'm not staying here," said Rose angrily. "You're mad if you think I'm spending another minute here."

Sir Wavelen looked amused. "You're quite spirited," he said. "I think we will get on very well together." He stood up and went to refresh his drink from a decanter on a nearby table.

While his back was turned, Rose hurried over to the door and pulled on the handle. To her surprise, it opened freely. She shot Sir Wavelen a wary look, but he didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. The door opened up into a hallway, so Rose pulled off her heels and started running down it. She had no idea where she was headed, but that was hardly a rare occurrence in her life with the Doctor. Looking from side to side, she scanned for possible exits.

The hallway turned a corner, and Rose could see up ahead that it ended in a stairwell. _Down's as good a direction as any,_ she thought as she neared the stairs.

Suddenly the air around her crackled, and she felt herself freeze up as a jolt ran through her body. She blinked her eyes open as the sensation ceased. She was back in the room with Sir Wavelen.

"What just…"

He chuckled. "Targeted transmat collar," he said, gesturing toward her neck. Shocked, Rose brought a hand up to feel the device strapped around her neck by a thin nylon cord. It wasn't very big—she hadn't noticed it earlier. "I generally employ them with off-worlders who may not appreciate the 'honor' part of honor-bound. You can't get farther than two hundred feet from this room, love. You might as well relax and have a drink with me while we discuss your future in my family."

Rose took a seat on the couch. _Yeah, well we'll just see about that,_ she thought. Out-loud, she said, "so what is it that you want exactly?"

"I've been searching for a bride for my son for three years, and you, my dear, have the purest DNA that I have ever come across. My family's line is seventy-two percent human, the highest in New Victoria City. Children that you bear with my son, however, will be eighty-six percent human—quite possibly the purest in the world, excepting yourself, of course."

Rose's mouth hung open. "What are you going on about?" she demanded, hopping up. "I'm not marrying your son. And as for bearing any kids, well…" She waived her hand about, unable to adequately describe the degree to which that was not happening. "You're gonna take me back to the Doctor right now," she said. "Best do it before he notices, too, or you won't like what'll happen next." She continued to threaten and rant for several minutes, but Sir Wavelen didn't seem perturbed.

"You'll see that this is for the best in the end," he said placidly as Rose stopped to catch her breath. "After all, it's not as if I'm asking you to join a family of paupers. You'll have everything you could ever want. Your children will be cherished and adored. You'll live in the most beautiful city on the most powerful planet at the center of a galactic empire. And with your genetics, you'll practically be royalty."

"Genetics, genetics," muttered Rose. "Why do you even _care_ about that? The human race is _supposed_ to spread and evolve. So many species, so little time, and all that? God," she cried, "this is Cassandra all over again!"

"Since you are an off-worlder, I wouldn't expect you to understand," he answered coolly. "But at the very least, you should be well-versed enough in Earth history to recall the Great Calamity, when the Earth's population was decimated during an alien attack." At her blank look, he added, "They came out of nowhere, slaughtered billions and then suddenly vanished. It is said that they were called the Daleks."

"Ah," said Rose as the pieces fell into place. "Right. Actually, I'm…um, surprisingly well-versed in that particular bit of history."

"During the rebuilding, many humans relied on alien assistance to succor the needs of their people, and the human race intermingled with aliens to an unparalleled degree. But the nobility realized that in order to remain strong, we must retain our genetic heritage and remain pure of alien influence. Of course," and here he looked a bit abashed, "I am not one of those crazy, xenophobic types. Peaceful aliens are welcome to come to Earth; indeed, many of my dear friends are aliens."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I've heard that one before." She began to pace back and forth across the room. The Doctor was bound to come for her sooner or later, but, having been on the receiving end of his rescue attempts, Rose wasn't willing to take the chance that she might end up married before he got there.

She just needed a plan. _What would the Doctor do?_ she thought. _Keep 'em talking._ She made her way over to the food table and leaned up against it.

"Other than my genetics, you don't really know anything about me," she said. "How do you know I'm not crazy or murderous or something? Might not be prime marriage material, yeah?"

"Once my scanner detected you, I had droids following you and your servant around the city," said Sir Wavelen. "You can learn quite a lot about a person by observing them for a day. Other than a questionable taste in art and food, I think you'll do just fine."

"The Doctor's not my servant; he's my husband," lied Rose. "So I can't get married to your son, since I already am. Married, that is. To the Doctor."

Sir Wavelen gave her a level look. "You are _not_ married, my dear."

"Oh? How would you know?" said Rose.

"You don't have a license ring," he observed, looking at her left hand.

"Not everyone has a ring these days," scoffed Rose. "I'm from off-world. Traditions are different."

"But here, you need a ring. You don't have a ring, so ergo, you are not married on _this_ world. And in any case, you are lying." He smiled. "I think it bodes well for my son that you are quite bad at it."

"Yeah, well, it was worth a try," said Rose with an impish smile. Wavelen smirked and finished off his drink.

He hadn't noticed her palm a small, serrated bread knife off the table.


	5. The Game is On

The Doctor swept into the ballroom, a man on a mission. The tenor of the party seemed to have changed—there was less dancing and more chatting in groups. On the other side of the room was a table draped with a red covering. To either side of it were flag poles with standards bearing some sort of seal.

Behind the table sat a silver-haired lady with a stern face. The Doctor crossed over to her. "Are you part of the Honor Guard?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She didn't seem fazed by his anger. "Yes, I am," she answered haughtily. "Lady Helena to you, young man. Would you like to register as a challenger?"

"No," he answered. "I would like my friend returned to me. She has most certainly NOT consented to any sort of marriage, and you have no right to hold her."

The lady sniffed. "If you would like to raise a legal suit against the challenge, I am not the person you want. You should talk with the people at the Ministry of Justice. I imagine they will be open tomorrow morning. Of course, it all falls under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Ancient Rites, and Sir Wavelen is head of that, so I doubt your suit will go very far. And until your suit is answered, the marriage will be quite legal."

The Doctor glared at her. "Tell me where Rose is," he said in a frighteningly quiet voice.

"I can't do that," she said firmly. She glanced back into the crowd, and, at her signal, two guards armed with swords materialized out of the group to flank the table. "However, if you would like to register, I can provide you with access to the same clues to her location that are given to every challenger."

The Doctor raked his hands through his hair as he paced back and forth in front of the desk. "Fine," he finally spat out. "Sign me up."

Lady Helena nodded gracefully and indicated that he should sit down on a nearby chair. "First, let me review the rules of the challenge." At an impatient movement from the Doctor, she raised her hand. "Don't fidget. We have plenty of time; there's still ten minutes until the timer begins counting down. Once it starts, you have six hours to locate and claim the young lady.

"If you are successful, you will then have an hour to relocate her to a hiding place of your choosing—anywhere inside the boundaries of the city. And you will need to provide the Honor Committee with clues to distribute to other challengers, at which point, the challenge begins again. Whoever holds her for the full six hours will gain the right to marry her.

"You may, of course, employ any means necessary to find her short of causing physical harm to others, although the Ministry does tend to frown on wanton destruction of property. In order to claim her, you must be the first to kiss her, which of course necessitates that you be close enough to touch her. No trying to claim her from across the room," she added with a shake of her finger. "And you'll need to pay the entry fee: two thousand credits."

The Doctor silently handed her the unlimited credit chip he had acquired that morning. Her eyebrows went up.

"Well, then, that will do. Let's take down your information. Name please?"

"The Doctor," he growled. She frowned but didn't comment on it.

"And the nature of your challenge?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said impatiently.

"What is the nature of your relationship to the young lady? Familial or romantic?" she asked patiently.

"Uh," said the Doctor, momentarily nonplussed. "Um, it's…complicated."

"Are you her father?" she asked.

"No."

"Her brother?"

"No…"

"So then you are a suitor," she concluded.

"Hmm," said the Doctor, tugging on his ear. "Is this something I have to declare here and now? You don't have any other categories? Traveling companion? Best friend? Plus one?"

Lady Helena's mouth pinched into a thin line. "Sir, you can stand in the stead of her brother, if you wish, but you'll have to decide that for yourself. As her brother, you would not be able to marry her, of course, but you would gain the right to choose her husband." She reached under the table and pulled out two pendants, each in the shape of an eight-pointed star fashioned out of shimmering crystal. One was white and the other was green, and they were each threaded onto a loop of white ribbon. She laid them on the table in front of the Doctor.

"The white is worn by the suitor; the green, by the brother or father," she said. "Traditionally, a challenger who successfully claims the lady presents her with his pendant as a token of his abiding love—familial OR romantic. I suggest you examine your heart and decide what, exactly, are your intentions toward this young woman, because I very much doubt she would appreciate your waffling about." She eyed him sternly.

The Doctor was silent a moment as he considered the two choices. Then he blew out a breath and reached out to pick up the white pendant. "I never look good in green anyway," he muttered as he raked his free hand through his hair.

"Splendid," said Lady Helena dryly. "Keep the pendant on at all times during the challenge—as long as you are wearing it, you won't be stopped by the police or the Honor Guard during your no-doubt daring rescue attempt. Now, here is a tablet containing the first clue. If you can solve it and go the location it indicates, you will be presented with another clue. I believe there are three in total."

She handed him an electronic device that looked all the world like a smart phone, and as it passed between them, the screen lit up. "Ah, it has activated—that means the challenge has begun. Good luck to you. Oh, and sir?" she added with a pointed look. "If you do manage to find her, try not to foul it up too badly."

The Doctor hurried out of the building as he read the information. It was a list with four items, locations, he thought, but they meant nothing to him.

_East Obelisk of Travail Tower_

_ Doorway of Clarinda's Confections_

_ Gramercy Cupola_

_ Statue of a Human Child_

_ Do they all have something in common? Is it some sort of code? _ he wondered. His knowledge of the specific geography of the city was sadly lacking since it had all been remade after the events at the Games Station. He needed help from a local, he realized. He half-considered going back in to find Clara, but he thought he might have burned that particular bridge.

As he stood out on the walking path in front of the Wavelen Estate wondering what to do next, he noticed a young man staring at a tablet with a befuddled expression and wearing a challenger's pendant (white, the Doctor noted with annoyance). He was standing next to a rather fabulous flybike.

"Hello there," the Doctor called out with a false cheerfulness. "I'm the Doctor. You working on these barmy clues too, eh? Going after the girl and all that?"

"Yeah," answered the young man gloomily. "My mother wants me to give it a go, but there's no way I'm going to figure this out." He waved the tablet morosely. "I'm hopeless at this sort of thing. Too bad, too, because did you see her? Rose? She's gorgeous."

"Can't argue with that," said the Doctor. "Course, you've never seen her before her morning tea…" He eyed the flybike speculatively. "Does that have a mapping feature on it?" he asked.

"Yeah, it has the full kit," said the young man. "Mapping, data transfer, commlink, and all. It's fast, too," he added with a grin.

"Perfect," said the Doctor, and he bent over the flybike's seat to activate the viewscreen.

"Hey, what are you doing?" protested the young man. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Sorry, I'm the Doctor." He stretched over the handlebars to offer a hand to shake. "What's your name?"

"Jerrud. But what are you doing to my bike?"

"Nice to meet you, Jerrud." The Doctor began typing in the information from the clue. "Huh," he said, staring at the results. "Well, they are locations in the city, spread all over town by the looks of it, but what's the significance?"

"Hey," protested Jerrud. "You're using my bike to try to win the girl."

"She's not a prize," snapped the Doctor. He straightened up and glared at Jerrud. "Not property. And not a way for you to prove your honor."

Jerrud looked confused. "Well, you're trying to find her, too. And it's still my flybike," he said and folded his arms.

"Right," said the Doctor, exasperated. He thought for a moment. Jerrud was still frowning at him.

"Ah ha!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I've just had a thought. Jerrud, my good man," he said, clapping the young man on the shoulder. "How about you and I work together on this one? I'll share my brain, and you share your bike, eh?" Without waiting for a response, he hopped on the flybike and started up the engine.

Jerrud scratched his head. "But if we're working together, how do we decide who gets the girl?"

"Well, how about this?" the Doctor said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "You'll stand on one side of the room and I'll stand on the other side of the room, and we'll both call her and see which of us she comes to."

"You mean…like with a dog?" said Jerrud slowly. The sarcasm seemed to be lost on him.

"Yes," said the Doctor, his eyes bugging out slightly. "Just like with a dog."

"Oh…well ok, I guess." Jerrud climbed onto the back of the bike.

"Marvelous," growled the Doctor. "Glad we have that cleared up. Let's get going then." He kicked the bike into gear, and they shot off into the night.


	6. The First Part's Easy

In the apartment, Rose gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to pace back and forth. She needed a moment alone to enact her escape plan, but Sir Wavelen was being frustratingly attentive. Although he didn't seem too concerned about her getting away, he didn't quite want to let her out of his sight, either. Rose had tried asking to use the loo, but it was windowless and its only ventilation was through an opening far too small for her to fit into – no help there.

The worst thing was that, as they waited, Sir Wavelen kept honking on about the importance of his family, the purity of his genetics, and his all-abiding love of Ancient Traditions (capitalization apparently required). Rose had tried arguing with him on a few of those concepts, but really, what was the point? Either the Doctor was going to come get her or she was going to find her own way out, and, in the meantime, there was no chance of changing Sir Wavelen's mind.

"…and so of course, Sir Dralein, my great ancestor, had no choice but to defend his honor in a most bloody duel," he pontificated happily.

Rose flopped down on the couch and darkly imagined Sir Wavelen, with a sword clutched in his portly hand, facing some dreadful enemy (the Sycorax came to mind). "So am I supposed to get married in this?" she finally interrupted when it became clear that he wasn't going to shut up any time soon. She tugged on the fabric of her dress. "Black's a bit morbid for a wedding, don't you think?"

"Eh, what's that? Oh, no, of course not," he said. "In fact, the dressmaker should be here by now." He frowned, checking his watch, and then stood up and activated a commlink, barking orders to some subordinate.

Rose took advantage of his distraction to adjust the knife she had stashed up her sleeve. It wasn't half pinching her arm. She really hoped she'd have a chance to use it soon.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. At Sir Wavelen's invitation, a young woman came in with a white silk dress draped expertly over one arm and a box of sewing supplies in the other. "My apologies for the delay," she said with a small curtsey to Sir Wavelen. "If you are ready, sir, I will begin the fitting."

"You may proceed," he answered her before winking at Rose. "My son's a lucky young man; you'll be a lovely bride.

"I'll be in the sitting room down the hall," he added to the seamstress. "Inform me when you are finished." Without waiting for a reply, he exited the room.

"Well then, miss, we'd better get started," said the girl with a smile. "Wouldn't want to hold up the happy event, yeah? You must be so excited!" She laid the wedding dress carefully on a table and began taking out her supplies.

"Mmm," said Rose noncommittally. She thought that she could probably find a way to distract the seamstress and escape, but she didn't really want to get the girl into trouble. It was one of those annoying, moral dilemmas that always seemed to find their way into adventures with the Doctor.

She watched the girl taking out scissors, needles, thread, measuring tape—the same kind of sewing supplies Rose's gran used. "Hold on," she said, poking a finger into the sewing box, "isn't this all a bit old-fashioned? I mean, don't you have some sort of sewing robot to do all this?"

The girl gave her an odd look. "Sure," she said, "but not for your wedding dress. Master Wavelen insisted that it be handmade. It's tradition, ain't it? We had it made up ages ago, but there's plenty of fabric left in the seams for alterations. You know, in case we need to let it out a bit." She eyed Rose's figure speculatively.

Rose didn't say anything to that, but she did decide that her moral dilemma was quite easily resolved. While the seamstress's back was turned, she grabbed one of the pins out of the sewing kit and stabbed herself in the finger. "Ouch," she yelped. (She had inadvertently hit the same spot that she'd cut that morning, and it actually hurt quite a bit.) "Oh, look at that," she sighed as blood began to drip down her hand. "Didn't realize how sharp those little…whadda yah call 'em…pins are."

The young woman glanced back over her shoulder. "Best be careful, miss," she said. "There's lots of sharp things in there."

Rose examined her hand thoughtfully. "You know, it's bleeding quite a lot. Maybe you could go run and grab me a bandage or something?"

The girl sighed. "We really need to get measuring," she said impatiently. "You'll be fine; it's just a pin. Get your clothes off, and let's get to work."

"It's just that I'd hate to get blood on the dress," said Rose. "White silk, handmade, and all. That'd be a bit of a disaster, wouldn't it?" She stepped closer to the table where the wedding dress lay.

At this, the girl jumped up. "Don't touch it!" she said frantically.

"I won't," promised Rose, but she waved her hand a little as she said it, scattering a few drops of blood on the carpet. One of them hit the table a few inches from the dress.

The seamstress's eyes bugged out. "I'll just go get you a bandage, then," she said in a panicked voice. "Go stand over there, _away from the dress_, and I'll be right back."

Rose grinned at her. "Thanks," she called as she watched the girl run out of the room. Then she wiped her hand off on her skirt and pulled the knife out of her sleeve.

_Time to get to work_, she thought.

"So," called the Doctor to Jerrud over the sound of the flybike, "how many of these little honor escapades have you done?"

"A couple," said Jerrud. "Like I said, they're not really my thing. And most people don't do the whole challenge thing anymore. Only the real traditionalists like Wavelen insist on doing it the old way. I probably wouldn't go through it at all, but my mother wants me to marry someone really human. Improve the family line, and all." He sounded sort of morose about it.

The Doctor glanced at Jerrud over his shoulder. "And you don't want to do that," he surmised as they leaned into a tight curve.

Jerrud shrugged. "Wouldn't be so bad, I guess. But there's this one girl, Jinna. She works in one of the horticulture stations in Linway Tower." He sighed. "She's really nice and she _loves_ bikes. I think she built the one she drives herself."

"Sounds like she's a catch," said the Doctor, pulling the bike into a sharp ascent to avoid a floating billboard. "Why on Earth are you here with me? You should go chat her up, eh?"

Jerrud shook his head. "I'd just end up sounding like an idiot," he said. "I mean, I can't even change the transdextral orbit coil on this thing." He patted his bike affectionately. "Besides," he added with another sigh, "Jinna's got a nictating third eyelid and webbed fingers. Can you imagine what my mother would say? It'd be World War Thirty-Three!"

The Doctor grinned. "The course of true love never did run smooth," he quoted.

"Anyway," continued Jerrud. "Rose is a lot prettier than Jinna, even if Jinna got her eyes fixed. I mean, did you see her legs?" He whistled appreciatively. "I could get used to waking up to those. I guess that's part of the benefit of these Honor Code things–I'd never stand a chance with a girl like her otherwise. Rose is way out of my league."

The Doctor was silent for a moment before muttering darkly, "you have no idea."

They continued their journey across the city. Finally, they landed in West End Park, next to a bronze statue of a little girl with her arms raised to the sky.

"So here we are," said the Doctor. "Statute of a Human Child. Closest location on the list. Now what?" He looked around the park speculatively.

"Well, there's Travail Tower," said Jerrud, pointing to the West across the skyline of the city.

"We can go there next," said the Doctor, pulling out the sonic screwdriver and scanning the statue. "Nothing. No weird readings, no energy signatures, not a thing. Just a bronze statue. Huh."

"And there's the Gramercy building," added Jerrud, moving his arm to point South. "The cupola's up on the top of it. We can't see the confectionary from here, of course, but I think it's over that way." He gestured to the North.

"One location at a time," said the Doctor impatiently, pulling out his glasses. "We haven't figured this one out yet." He was bending over the statue, examining the sculpture in detail.

"What's to figure out?" asked Jerrud. "We just need to draw lines between them, right?"

The Doctor whipped around to stare at him. "What do you mean, lines?"

"It's like, you know, X-marks-the-spot," said Jerrud. "It's tradition."

"Oh, I'm getting sick of that word," sighed the Doctor. "What's tradition?"

"The first clue's always a list of four places, right?" said Jerrud, confused. "You just have to draw the lines between them and go to where they intersect."

The Doctor stared at him. "But if you knew that, why didn't you say anything?" he demanded.

Jerrud held up his hands in protest. "I thought you knew what you were doing," he said. "I always get the coordinates wrong, end up in some random part of town. Besides, the deal's your brains, my flybike, right?"

The Doctor ignored him and ran back to the bike. "All right then," he muttered to himself as he brought up the mapping feature. "If these are the locations, then they intersect here, at the…" he peered closely at the screen, "…Banklin Heights Tower."

"But we need to figure out at what level," said Jerrud. "It'll take too long to search the whole building. The others will be well ahead of us by now."

"What others?" snapped the Doctor impatiently.

"The other challengers," explained Jerrud. "You didn't think it was just us, did you? There were a lot of them; they left the Wavelen Estate before we did."

The Doctor stared at him. "How many were there?"

"I dunno, about twenty maybe," said Jerrud with a shrug. "They took off as soon as the challenge activated."

"Twenty…" muttered the Doctor. "Honestly, Rose, everywhere we go. You and your gorgeous… genetics." He then glared at Jerrud. "Do you think you could try to be a little less useless?"

"Hmph!" grunted Jerrud. "Maybe you should get a flybike of your own, then."

"Maybe you should actually talk to girls instead of trying to win one in a scavenger hunt," retorted the Doctor.

Jerrud crossed his arms. "You're looking for her, too," he said stubbornly.

"That's different," snapped the Doctor. "Rose is already…" _Mine. _"…traveling with me."

Jerrud rolled his eyes. "Well, at this rate, she won't be 'traveling,'" he said, making air quotes with his fingers, "with either one of us."

The Doctor bit back a retort. He ran a hand through his hair. "Right," he said and then leaned back over the bike's screen. "Well, this is just a simple bit of geometry. The angle of the line between here and the Tower and the distance to the intersecting line…ah ha!" He hopped back on the bike. "The next clue's at three hundred twenty-two meters up Banklin Heights."

"Did you just do that in your head?" asked Jerrud. "Are you sure that it's right?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Yes," he said emphatically. "Now let's get going. Four hours, fifty-six minutes left."

"How'd you…"

"Just get on the bike," said the Doctor impatiently. Jerrud looked unsure, but he climbed on behind the Doctor, and they took off.


	7. The Second Part Should Be Easy, Too

"So, what other bits of tradition should I know about?" asked the Doctor. "What's the next clue likely to be?"

"Some sort of mental puzzle. See, the first's supposed to be a test of adventure; find the spot on the map or whatever. The second is the test of the mind. Third's the test of courage."

"Well, what sort of things were they the last time you did this?"

Jerrud blushed. "I don't know. Like I said, I never get past the first clue. I bet it's something really hard, though. Sir Wavelen doesn't want anyone to actually succeed or anything. He's even more into the purity thing than my mother."

The Doctor shook his head. "What's wrong with you people? I mean, interspecies propagation is practically humanity's superpower. What's so bad about aliens, eh?"

"I don't know; it's just weird," said Jerrud. "You know… kind of creepy. I mean, think about it. Would you really want Rose if she was a completely different species from you?"

"Um," answered the Doctor.

"Exactly," said Jerrud, feeling he had made a point. "It's just too different. There's the different culture and the different expectations and don't forget, the different biology. Not that I really care about the third eyelid, per say," he added with a wave of his hand. "But it'd be…better if Jinna was purer. So," he continued before the Doctor could interrupt, "I've been meaning to ask. You said you traveled with Rose—what's she like?"

The Doctor was silent for a moment before answering. "She's very…human."

Jerrud nodded sagely. "Ah, see, there you go."

"All right," said the Doctor, "here we are. Three hundred and twenty-two meters up Banklin Tower." He parked the flybike on an outdoor platform next to a number of similar vehicles. "Ooh," he said, pointing. "Do you think these belong to our rivals? Maybe we've caught up with them."

Jerrud was already going into the building. "Doctor," he called from the doorway. "In here."

The Doctor hurried to join him. They entered into a large lecture hall filled with desks. Seated in the front rows were a number of young men, all working on small data screens. Two members of the Honor Guard stood at the front of the room, watching the challengers.

As the Doctor and Jerrud headed toward the front of the room, one of the Honor Guard gestured to two open desks. They sat down and looked at the information on the screen.

_Problem one: Solve for X. Problem two: Solve for Y. These are the coordinates of the third challenge_. This was followed by two extremely long and complex mathematical equations.

The Doctor and Jerrud both spoke at the same time. "Oh, but this is ridiculously…"

"Easy," finished the Doctor.

"Hard!" complained Jerrud.

They looked at each other. "You can't be serious," they both said at the same time.

"Hey, would you two shut it?" hissed a young man sitting to the Doctor's left. "I've been working on this first problem for nearly an hour, and I don't need you distracting me!"

"Really?" The Doctor leaned over, his good humor returning. "I can see why—you've got a mistake in your second line."

"Don't help him," hissed Jerrud.

"You know, I can't help but feel that there's something ironic about all this," said the Doctor cheerfully. "Because, see, I do immensely complicated maths in front of Rose all the time. _In my head_, no less. She's never impressed by it."

"Shouldn't we be getting to work?" asked Jerrud.

"Nah, no need," said the Doctor with a grin. "I've got it all worked out—I'm just that clever." He stood up. "Well, then, guess we'll be on our way. Good luck to you, gentlemen."

The young man who spoke before looked up at him speculatively. "I don't believe you," he said. "There's nothing wrong with my calculations."

"'Course there is," said the Doctor, leaning over his screen. "Look, just there. You're misapplying the logarithm."

"Stop it," said Jerrud, tugging on the Doctor's sleeve.

Another challenger spoke up. "You know, I think you're making it up. These problems are impossible. There's no way you could have actually worked them out." He sounded serious, but there was a suspicious twitch at one corner of his mouth. "We ought to lodge a complaint with the Abuse of Traditions Committee."

"It's child's play," said the Doctor with a wave of his hand.

"Oh, yeah?" said the young man to his left. "Prove it."

The Doctor chuckled, pleased with an opportunity to demonstrate his cleverness. "Look, half of the equations are just red herrings. Which would have been clever, if it hadn't been so obvious. You're supposed to waste time dealing with the homogeneous second-order linear constant coefficient. But once you realize it's all a bit of a wash, then you're left with just ordinary differential equations, which even you ridiculous apes should be able to…" He trailed off as, all around the room, the other challengers started working furiously on the problems.

"Would you just stop talking!" shouted Jerrud. "You might as well solve it for them!"

The Doctor frowned at him. "You know, Jerrud my lad, as a companion, you're a bit rubbish. Rose would have made me shut up a lot sooner. Well then," he said, hopping up. "We'd better make use of what lead time we have. Allons-y!"

On the other side of the city, Rose was crouched behind a large potted plant, trying to stay hidden. She had ducked behind it when two of the Honor Guard had appeared in the corridor across from her, but it wasn't the best hiding spot. The plant kept shifting from side to side of its own accord. Rose was hopeful that this was normal futuristic plant behavior and that it wasn't actually trying to reveal her position, but really, who could say? With her luck, it'd probably start singing show tunes.

She'd thought she'd done all right getting out of the transmat collar, at least. A few good hacks with the bread knife had cut through the cord, and Rose had stuffed the wretched thing in a pile of cold cuts on the food table. She'd nicked one of her other fingers in the process, though, which hadn't put her in the best of moods. She'd thought idly about actually wiping her bloody hands on the wedding dress, but the idea struck her as unnecessarily petty. After all, there was probably some girl out there who was dying to wear the thing.

She had snuck out of Wavelen's flat without too much trouble, but then she saw that the building was (_of course_) swarming with guards.

Since Rose seemed to find herself in this position at least once a week (dancing plant notwithstanding), she wasn't too worried. At least these guards weren't trying to kill her. She scrunched down tighter as they passed by her hiding place.

_Ok, any minute now they're going to notice I'm gone, _she thought to herself. _I need to get out of sight._ She glanced up and down the hallway. There were a number of doors, but they were probably for other apartments, and Rose didn't fancy bursting in on anyone at home. Then she spotted one door with a sign. _Community Data Lab,_ she read. _Sounds good._ Maybe she'd even be able to meet someone who would help her find a way out of the building.

The lab was filled with semi-private booths rigged up the data screens and large, comfortable chairs. There were a few people using the terminals, but, as none of them seemed to recognize her, Rose figured they must be tenants.

She was searching the room for a friendly looking face when she heard someone speak behind her.

"Rose…?"

She turned around. It was Randolf.

"Oh, fudgesicles," she muttered, and then rolled her eyes at the TARDIS swear filter.

"What are you doing here?" he asked nervously. "We aren't supposed to see each other, you know, beforehand. It's tradition."

"Look," said Rose, going with her gut and reaching for one of his hands. "I'm going to be honest. I don't want to marry you. You seem really nice and all," she added in a hurry when Randolf started to look like a kicked puppy. "It's just that, I'm really young, and you're really young. We don't really know each other. I want to do some traveling before I settle down. I never marry on a first date. It's not you; it's me. Really, take your pick."

"But why'd you accept the invitation, then?" he asked sadly.

"Didn't know it was a marriage proposal, actually." She tried to give him a little smile. "Hey, you're a nice guy. Cute, too. I bet tons of girls would be happy to say yes."

"You think?"

"Absolutely," she said bracingly. "So, um, I don't suppose you could help me get out of here?"

He looked a little shocked at the suggestion. "My father would kill me."

"Yeah, but getting into trouble's what makes it fun! C'mon, Randolf," she added with a flirty grin, "all girls love a rebel."

He looked a little hesitant so she added, squeezing his hand, "Maybe we could go out later. Y'know, on a proper date or something."

She felt a little bad for lying. On the other hand, he'd drugged her and tried to force her into marriage, so she figured it all balanced out, karma-wise.

"All right," he said shyly. "That'd be nice."

"Right then, so how do we get out of here without getting caught?"

Randolf thought for a moment. "They've closed off the upper level exits, but the main entrance hall is still open, I think. There's a maintenance lift just off the eastern corridor that we could take. It might not be blocked off."

"Well, then, after you."

They managed to find the elevator without too much trouble, and Randolf was able to use his father's passcode to activate it. He pressed the button to take them to the main entrance hall.

All in all, it was one of Rose's easier escapes. Later, in hind sight, she would think that this probably should have been a warning sign.

"I really appreciate the help," she said, mostly to make conversation.

"No problem," mumbled Randolf. "I'm really sorry for all this. I wouldn't have, you know, kidnapped you if I'd thought you didn't want to… I mean, I'd have tried to stop my dad…"

"S'alright," said Rose. "Believe me, I know what it's like to have a parent try to run your life."

Randolf nodded but didn't say anything. They both watched as the floor numbers counted down on the lift panel.

"So why are there so many guards here?" she asked, trying to break the silence.

"It's for the Honor Challenge," he answered. "I think the challengers are supposed to fight their way up or something." At her shocked expression he hastened to add, "It's not a real fight, though. They'll get light wave swords – they just have to score touches to the Honor Guards to get past them."

"But," said Rose, staring at the rapidly descending numbers on the lift panel, "they have to enter through the main entrance hall, right?"

"Yes."

"So there'll be a whole lot of guards in there."

"I guess."

She glared at him. "And isn't that where the lift is taking us?"

Randolf paled slightly and then flew to the control panel. "Oh, crumbs," he muttered.

"Did you do that on purpose?" demanded Rose. "Are you trying to get me caught?"

"No, no, no!" he said. "I just didn't think. I've never had to smuggle anyone out of a building before. OK, we can't get out early, 'cause the lower levels are filled with guards. We can't just stop the lift—the maintenance alarms would go off. Umm," he pulled at his hair, reminding Rose painfully of the Doctor.

"What about up there?" she asked, pointing to a hatch in the top of the lift.

"I guess," said Randolf. "But it's sort of dangerous, don't you think? Who knows what's up there."

Rose just grinned at him. "Give us a boost, yeah?" She kicked off her heels. Randolf grasped his hands together to make a platform for her to step on, and she pushed up so that she could reach the hatch.

"Oof," said Randolf.

"Oi, no complaints," she ordered as she struggled to unlatch the mechanism.

"You'd better hurry," grunted Randolf. "We're nearly there."

"Just a second…got it!" She pulled the hatch door free and dropped it to the floor of the lift. She grabbed hold of the edge of the opening. "There's a bit of a metal rim around the hole. You're gonna have to lift me up a little higher."

"You know, Dame Rose," said Randolf as he struggled to push her up, "I think you just might be the craziest person I've ever met."

"Yeah, well, that's just 'cause you've never met my footman," gasped Rose as she tried to haul herself up. She wasn't quite able to get her torso over the edge. "C'mon, push!" Her legs flailed uselessly.

"I'm trying! Stop kicking so much!"

_DING!_

Rose winced as, below her, the door to the lift opened. Randolf jumped back from her, and her legs were left dangling in plain sight.

"…Young Master Wavelen?" inquired a voice from outside the lift. "What are you…doing?"

Rose bit her lip. "Oh, _fudgesicles_," she cursed.


	8. The Third Part Needs More Heft

"So," said the Doctor as he and Jerrud lifted off on the flybike, "the next test's all about courage, then?"

Jerrud just grunted in response, and the Doctor had the feeling that he had not yet been forgiven for his unstoppable gob.

"Ah, come on," he said. "Don't be like that. Besides, it'd be a bit boring if we didn't have that lot hot on our tails, eh?"

"You know," said Jerrud, after a pregnant pause, "we've almost reached the end of this little adventure together. Maybe you could just…not talk for the rest of it."

"Look, it's not my fault you people have invented an incredibly daft way to choose a marriage partner," said the Doctor. "I mean, really, what are you supposed to be accomplishing with all this?"

"It's supposed to be about proving yourself," snapped Jerrud. "It's symbolic."

"But this doesn't prove anything," protested the Doctor. "Other than that you lot are rubbish at maths," he added in a quiet aside. "It's not even particularly romantic."

"Oh, what do you know about it?" asked Jerrud sharply. "Besides, my mother says that romance is overrated."

"Right. What's love got to do with it," muttered the Doctor. "All I know is that you shouldn't pick the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with based on their genetics. You should find someone who makes you happy. Someone who fits in your life. Someone who makes you feel like you've come home."

Jerrud started to reply, but then he stopped and slumped down. "Well sometimes it's not quite that simple," he answered quietly.

The Doctor was silent for a moment before he replied. "Yeah."

"Here we are," said the Doctor as they arrived at a fairly nondescript tower. "Just a little over two hours left. Hmm, just looks like an apartment building. What do you suppose the challenge is?"

"There," said Jerrud, pointing to the lower entrance. "The Honor Guard are waiting down there. We're probably supposed to check with them."

As the Doctor steered the flybike down, he noticed a series of floating, blinking devices hovering around the building, forming a network. "Hello, what're they up to?" he wondered out loud.

"They're levitation dampeners," said Jerrud. "They'll stop any air traffic from reaching the building—if we tried to fly past them, the bike would stall out. 'Course, they probably have a transpo-buffer on them to push vehicles back if anyone tries to get too close."

"Interesting," said the Doctor, eyeing the network. "So the only entrance is through the bottom of the building." He leaned back, looking up to the top of the tower. "Bet I know where Rose is," he muttered to himself. "That is, if she hasn't wandered off."

Frankly, he was a bit surprised that she wasn't climbing down the outside of the building on a rope.

"Well, let's check in, then," he said and steered the bike down to the entrance platform.

The guards were waiting at a table set up just outside the entrance to the building. As the Doctor and Jerrud approached, they saluted.

"Challengers," said the one on the right, "to complete the third task and find the lady, you must prove your courage. Choose a weapon; arm yourself. You must defeat the Honor Guard to proceed up the tower. The lady is hidden somewhere within."

"Oh, yes," exclaimed Jerrud, as he rushed to the table to pick a weapon. "Now _this_ I can do." He threw the Doctor a smug look as he activated a sword, which looked exactly like a yellow light saber from Star Wars. "First Reserve Champion of the Junior Duelists Division, Second Class."

"That's a light wave sword," said the Doctor, apparently unimpressed.

"Yep," said Jerrud, waiving it back and forth, demonstrating his prowess.

"It, ah, doesn't actually do anything."

"It's for dueling," said Jerrud with a frown.

"It's for fake-dueling," said the Doctor dismissively. He waived his hand through the sword. "See? Nothing."

"It scores touches," protested Jerrud. "On the opponent's uniform." He flashed it across the chest of one of the Honor Guard, leaving a yellow mark. "See?"

"Please don't do that," said the Guard.

"And it repels the opponent's sword," continued Jerrud, ignoring the Guard. "It's not supposed to spill blood. It's…gentlemanly."

The Doctor just rolled his eyes. "It's silly," he said. "How are you supposed to prove your courage with that? There's no real risk!"

"And I suppose you've a better idea? Want to pull out some laser pistols, fire at ten paces?" asked Jerrud sarcastically.

"No," said the Doctor, looking up thoughtfully. "Don't care much for guns. But there is something else I'd like to try." He looked back at Jerrud and grinned. "Tell you what, you give me a quick ride on the flybike, and I'll get out of your hair. You can go and…battle your way up the tower in true gentlemanly style."

"But…where are you going? I thought we were working together."

"Oh, I'll just slow you down," answered the Doctor. "Never really got the hang of light wave swords myself. Not enough…heft. C'mon, just a quick lift and then you can get to it."

Jerrud seemed reluctant, but he climbed back onto the flybike in the driver's position, and the Doctor got on behind him. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Up."

A few minutes later, they were hovering over the top of the building, just above the highest levitation dampeners. The Doctor eyed the distance to the gently sloping roof; it looked to be about twenty feet. He took out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the building.

"Ah, excellent," he muttered.

"So what's the plan?" asked Jerrud.

"Well," said the Doctor, looking down at the building speculatively, "I'm going to be getting off now. Good luck with your fake duels and all."

"What!" exclaimed Jerrud, twisting around to stare at him. "You can't get off! You'll fall! You're going to get yourself killed."

"Nah," said the Doctor. "I'll be fine." He adjusted the setting on the sonic screwdriver. "I'm going to work my way down the building. You head back down to the bottom and work your way up. Maybe we'll meet in the middle. Or something."

"You're insane," decided Jerrud.

The Doctor broke into a manic grin. "Didn't anyone ever tell you? Faint heart never won fair lady."

Then, he jumped.


	9. What It Would Take

The Doctor had enough time during his descent to consider and reconsider the wisdom of his plan, but, since it was clearly too late to go back, he didn't want to dwell on it. Instead, he mulled over the best way to land, whether he was going to be able to find a way into the building once he landed, and what a shame it was that Rose wasn't here to witness this feat of daring-do. _Although_, he mused, _she'd probably disapprove. Maybe it's better this way._

When he finally hit the roof with a bone-rattling smack, he had just enough wherewithal to activate the sonic screwdriver. With its new setting, it acted like a magnet and clung to the metal material of the roof, stopping him from sliding off the edge of the building. He clung to it while he caught his breath.

"Ow, that really, really hurt," he said to the empty air.

"Are you all right?" Jerrud shouted down at him.

"Yes, yes, perfectly all right," the Doctor called back. "I'm just going to…hang here for a bit. You'd better hurry up."

"You're insane," replied Jerrud unhelpfully. "Best of luck." He took off on the flybike.

After a few moments, the Doctor pulled himself up and got his feet underneath him. The slope of the roof was gentle enough to allow him to sit without sliding, especially with his rubber-soled trainers providing traction.

He blew out a breath. "Well, now," he muttered. "Where to go from here…" He scooted up to the apex of the roof. "Ah ha!" he exclaimed, spotting a small maintenance port on the other side of the roof. "There we are. Easy-peasy."

He used the sonic to open the port and climbed down into the building. Glancing around, he saw that he was in some sort of maintenance cupboard. The door wasn't locked from the inside, so he opened it and poked his head out into an empty hallway.

There was no sign of the Honor Guard. _Which means that Rose is probably on a lower level, _he thought_. No point in putting guards above her when they expect the challengers to be coming in through the lower entrance. _

He quickly found the stairwell and started downward. Three levels down, he spotted two of the guards standing at attention by the door leading to that floor's hallway. Since he was on the level above them, they weren't paying any attention to him, probably assuming that he was a resident and not a challenger.

He briefly considered tucking his challenger's pendant inside his shirt and just walking past them. _But where's the fun in that?_ he thought. _Might was well just smack them with a light wave sword. _Besides, he decided, it would be must more impressive to do something a little more…out of common.

After a quick trip back to the upper level maintenance cupboard, he slipped into the hallway a level above the guards. Fortunately, the flats on this floor were quite large, so there were only two doors. He pulled out his psychic paper and knocked on the first one. A little old lady opened the door.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Hello, I'm the building inspector. May I take a look at your balcony?"

Rose was officially bored. She was also officially out of escape options. Morosely, she tugged at the handcuffs that kept her wrists trapped behind her back and the multiple ropes that kept her tied to the chair. Once the Honor Guard had recaptured her and returned her to the flat, Wavelen had gone a bit overboard with the restraints.

"Very thorough," she had complimented him sarcastically.

"Wouldn't want you to wander off again," he'd answered with a smile and a pat to her head, before heading off to complete the wedding arrangements.

Now she was stuck alone in the flat with nothing to do. It was, she decided, high time for the Doctor to show up. _Bloody alien_, she thought to herself darkly. _I swear, if I end up married before he gets here…_

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something brown hanging down outside the window. Rose struggled to turn enough to see over her shoulder. Her jaw dropped as she saw the Doctor's head, upside down, just outside the upper part of the window frame. He grinned at her and waved before touching the sonic screwdriver to the glass.

The window pane seemed to segment itself into thousands of tiny squares, which broke apart and fell inwards onto the carpet. The Doctor disappeared from view for a moment before his head was replaced by his trainers. He struggled in through the hole in the window. "Hello!" he said cheerfully, as he dropped to the floor. "Did you miss me?"

"Oh my god," said Rose with a surprised laugh. "How did you do that?"

"With just a little help from the window washing droid," he answered, reaching through the hole and dragging said droid inside. Before Rose could respond, he was leaning back through the window. "Thanks, Mrs. Cole! And good luck to your granddaughter at the University!"

"Where the bloody hell have you been? University? And who's Mrs. Cole?" demanded Rose, twisting against her bonds.

"She's the nice old lady who lives upstairs. I had a quick cuppa with her," explained the Doctor.

"You had tea with the lady upstairs while I've been stuck here?"

"Well, I had to get her permission to use her balcony, and then she asked me if I would like to stay for a spot of tea, and it seemed like it'd be only polite. It was only one cup. And two biscuits. Well, I say two; more like three. Well, I say three...

"Anyway," he said, hurrying to change the subject as the look on Rose's face went from disbelieving to outraged, "I had a whole six hours to find you. I've still got half an hour to spare. So, shall we be going, then?" He paused and looked at her properly. "Hang on, are you tied to the chair?"

"Your powers of observation are truly epic," said Rose sweetly.

"But I thought you were an honor prisoner. Usually that means a comfy wait, lots of food, that sort of thing." He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and hurried over to her.

"Yeah, I guess I lost those privileges when I tried to escape."

"Ah," replied the Doctor as he adjusted the settings on the sonic. "I was wondering about that… Well, no worries, I'll have you out of those in a jiff."

"My hero."

"Yep!" he replied cheerfully. "That's me, saving the damsel in distress. Too bad there aren't any train tracks here, though."

Rose's lips curved up in spite of herself. "Yeah. Oh, and Wavelen doesn't have a handlebar moustache, either."

"It's a shame," agreed the Doctor with a smile as he knelt behind her to get her handcuffs off. Then he paused and said, "Hold on." Suddenly Rose felt something wet and slimy brush over one of her palms.

"Did you just lick my hand?" she asked incredulously.

"That's blood on your hand. Your blood." He no longer sounded amused. "Why were you bleeding?"

"I can't believe you just licked my hand," she said. "You are so weird."

"Rose," he growled.

"It's not a big deal – just a little diversionary tactic. Oh, and a bit of a run-in with a bread knife. Now get the handcuffs off, will you?"

Behind her, Rose could hear him activating the sonic and grumbling something that sounded suspiciously like "jeopardy-friendly." As the cuffs came free, she was able to wiggle her arms around in front of her and ease her aching shoulders.

Just then, the door opened, and Sir Wavelen entered with several of the Honor Guard.

"Hello," said the Doctor with a little wave.

"But…but…what is he doing here?" Sir Wavelen demanded of one of the guards. "Captain, you said the challengers weren't past the fourth floor yet."

"None that have entered through the lower level have gotten that far yet," answered the Captain of the Honor Guard. "He must have found another way in."

"I should get extra points for originality," said the Doctor as he changed the setting on the sonic screwdriver to cut through rope.

"But you can't take her," protested Sir Wavelen. "You didn't complete the duels! You didn't go through the third challenge."

"Oh, but I don't have to. The rules were that I had to locate her, _by any means necessary_," said the Doctor, and Rose could tell from his voice that he was losing his patience with Sir Wavelen's little game. He slipped the sonic into her hand and then moved to stand in front of her. "Well, here she is, I've found her, so we'll just be on our way."

"Technically, he is correct, sir," said the Captain. "By law, the challengers don't have to complete the challenges, per say. They are only in place as a means of locating the lady."

Sir Wavelen shot him an ugly look. "Remember who you are speaking to, sir. I am the First Minister of Ancient Rites; I don't need you to explain the law to me."

"Apparently, you do," muttered Rose as she started to sonic her way through the ropes.

"We're all in agreement, then," said the Doctor firmly. "So…toodles."

"Wait," said Sir Wavelen, holding up a hand. "Your claim _is_ invalid, sir." When everyone looked at him questioningly, he smirked. "You haven't kissed the lady."

Rose paused her attempts at cutting through the rope, and she swallowed.

"Why does that matter?" asked the Doctor, incredulous.

"That is the law," said Sir Wavelen haughtily. "It is tradition." He gestured to the Captain.

The man frowned. "The First Minister is, of course, correct," he said. "You cannot take her without first kissing her. But," he added, pointing out the obvious, "you are standing right next to her—you can easily assert your claim."

_Well, _thought Rose with a grin, _that's one of the better get-out-of-prison cards we've come across…_

"No," snapped the Doctor suddenly, cutting across her train of thought. Everyone else in the room blinked in surprise, and Rose's head snapped up.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me," she said in disbelief.

"You can't take her without a valid claim," said Sir Wavelen darkly.

"No," repeated the Doctor with a snarl. "I won't treat her like chattel. I won't treat her like property. She isn't something that can be bought or sold or _claimed_." Without taking his eyes off the men in front of him, he held out a hand to Rose. "I've had enough of this. We're going," he snapped.

"Um, Doctor," objected Rose.

"You insult my honor, sir!" shouted Sir Wavelen.

"Rose," said the Doctor, waving his hand impatiently. "Let's go."

"Yeah, that'll be a bit difficult—I'm still, y'know, tied up here," she said, rolling her eyes as she moved the sonic screwdriver over the rope binding her right ankle. Sometimes, she honestly couldn't _believe_ him.

"I want this man arrested," said Sir Wavelen to the Captain.

The Captain's brow furrowed. "He hasn't yet broken the law. But," he added, addressing the Doctor, "if you refuse to abide by the Code of Honor, sir, I will be forced to arrest you."

"You know what your problem is, Wavelen?" asked the Doctor darkly, ignoring the Captain. "You think that prestige is bought at the cellular level. You think you can win honor by playing a game. But Rose isn't a prize, and she's leaving here with me."

Behind him, Rose cut through another rope.

"He is trying to take what is mine!" shouted Sir Wavelen. "My family has rightfully won her!" His face was red with outrage.

"You've done nothing to win her!" the Doctor shouted back, his eyes flashing as he stepped toward the other man. "You have no idea what it would take to be worthy of her!"

"I demand retribution for this violation of honor," snapped Sir Wavelen. "I challenge you to a duel, sir!"

Rose glanced up. She could see the tension in the Doctor's neck as he leaned forward toward the other man. "Doctor," she said, exasperated, but he didn't seem to hear her.

"Oh, I'm game," he snarled. "I once fought a creature much more frightening than you for her. Trust me, you're nothing compared to the Sycorax."

"I seem to remember a certain planet being at stake," grumbled Rose as she moved on to the last restraint.

A servant brought Sir Wavelen his sword—a rapier with a wicked looking point. One of the Honor Guard presented a similar weapon to the Doctor. The Minister cut the air in front of him with two strokes of the blade. "You'll regret your impudence," he said coldly.

The Doctor said nothing, his eyes dark and terrifying, as he rotated the wrist of his fighting hand. He took the proffered sword and executed an elaborate flourish with it as the members of the Honor Guard stepped back to make room. The two men faced each other and raised their swords up in a salute.

As the Doctor brought his blade back down, ready to keep the other man at its point, Rose suddenly stepped in front of him and shoved his sword hand down. She reached up to grab the collar of his shirt. "You're being completely ridiculous," she informed him before tugging his mouth down to hers.

She meant it to be a quick kiss, she really did, just enough to satisfy the requirements of these silly people. It didn't seem right to take advantage of this predicament in order to get a chance to snog the Doctor, but…oh, but…

But he was all fire and ice and rage, and he tasted like time and the universe, and yes, oh, _yes_, _please_, he was kissing her back. Mouth and tongue, soft and hot and, in that moment, so very, very _hers_. Rose ran her hand up into his hair and pulled him tighter.

With a clatter, his sword dropped to the ground, and his arms were around her, and she could hear, she could _swear _she could hear half-questions in his kiss: _Are you, will you, do you? _ And it didn't matter that they were never quite finished; she already knew the answer, the only answer left to give.

_Yes, yes, of course, yes. Anything. Everything._

When she felt him start to shake, she opened her eyes.

A pair of dark eyes looking back at her. Looking into her, with everything that was always left unsaid hanging naked in the air between them.

With a gasp, she pulled back, breaking the kiss. In that moment, all she could see was him.

He was everything.

Behind her, the Captain of the Honor Guard cleared his throat significantly, and the sound snapped Rose back into reality. She blinked and shook her head to clear it.

"Uh," she said, turning around to face the rest of the room. "Right. So, um, s'alright if we go now, yeah?"

Sir Wavelen was standing with his mouth open and his sword still outstretched. "But, but, we're dueling," he objected.

"Nope," said Rose. "You're not. Nothing to duel over. He's claimed me, your honor's intact, and everybody's happy. Well, more or less." She raised an eyebrow at the Captain, and he nodded back to her.

"You can go," he announced. "The Doctor's claim is valid. The challenge is suspended for one hour to allow him to take the lady to a new hiding place."

"Fantastic," said Rose dryly. She picked the sword up off the floor. Glancing back at the Doctor, she saw that he looked a bit stunned. "C'mon then," she said, taking one of his hands and tugging him forward. "Let's go. I'm seriously sick of these shoes. Bloody uncomfortable. Oh, here," she added, handing one of the guards the sword. "You can have this."

She pulled the still-silent Doctor out of the room (she really hoped she hadn't broken him), and they headed toward the exit to the flat. Once they were out in the hallway, Rose saw a young man come running out of an elevator.

"Doctor, you found her," he called. "Rose! Rose, come to me! Come to me, Rose!"

She stared at him before shutting her eyes and pinching her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose. "Doctor," she asked in a weary voice, "who the _hell_ is that?" Across the room, the young man was making a half-hearted attempt at a whistle.

The Doctor broke his silence with a quick chuckle. "Ah, yes, right. Forgot about him. Rose, meet Jerrud. Jerrud, this is Rose."

"Please come to me, Rose," Jerrud called.

"Is he insane?" she asked the Doctor in a quiet aside.

He laughed again. "Nah, he's fine. Maybe a touch…literal, though. Sorry about that," he called to Jerrud, "but I think she'll be coming with me. Tell you what, go find Jinna and get her to teach you how to change the coils on your bike. And tell your mum that the eyelid thing's recessive.

"Dame Rose," he said, offering her his arm. "Shall we be off then?"

"Wait, Doctor," said one of the Honor Guards, catching up to them. "You need to provide clues for the other challengers." He looked at the Doctor expectantly.

"Right!" said the Doctor, nodding to himself. "Sorry. Clues…" He thought for a moment. "Tell you what," he said slowly, "I'm going to be hiding her in a big, blue, wooden box parked in, where was it again?" he asked Rose.

"83rd docking bay," she said with amusement.

"Right, 83rd docking bay," said the Doctor. "Says 'Police Box' right on the top. Will that do?"

The man blinked at him. "But surely you'll want something a bit more complicated," he objected. "That hardly makes for a challenge."

"Yes, well, I'm a bit thick," said the Doctor cheerfully. "C'mon Rose, the docking bay's not far from here. Let's go for a walk, eh?

"Would you like to borrow a transport at least?" asked the guard, bemused. "There are a number of challengers who have arrived downstairs, and while they can't interfere with you while the challenge is suspended, there's nothing to stop them from following you to your destination."

The Doctor just gave him a wicked grin. "Perfect."


	10. To Be Worthy of Her

"So," said Rose as they exited the building through a throng of other challengers. "Is there some sort of…point you're trying to make here?"

"Whatever do you mean?" asked the Doctor, nonchalantly taking her hand.

"It's just…" Rose glanced back at the pack of hopefuls, who were now following some distance behind them. "We could have taken a transport, and we wouldn't have that lot behind us. Seems like maybe there's a point."

"No, no point. Well, not really," he said, tugging on one ear. "Maybe a little one."

"Stick with me, baby, I'm the fella you came in with?" she asked him with a playful grin.

"Something like that," he said, smiling back.

She bumped him with her shoulder. "You're so full of it," she teased. "Admit it—you got caught up in the whole thing."

"I did not! What whole thing?"

"The whole honor-and-glory, proving yourself thing."

The Doctor snorted. "I don't need to prove myself, not to these ridiculous people anyway."

"Uh-huh," said Rose, clearly not convinced. "And the fact that I had to stop you from dueling Mr. Head-Honor-and-Glory-Himself was just…what? All in a day's work?"

"I would have won, you know," said the Doctor, pouting a little.

Rose rolled her eyes. "Of course you would have won," she said, and a smile bloomed on his face. "You'd have skewered him and then felt really bad about it later. Why'd you think I stopped you?"

"Expediency? Pacifism?" He paused and then added, in a slightly deeper voice, "Curiosity?"

Rose's cheeks pinked up a little. "Well, sure," she said, clearing her throat, "some of that, too."

The Doctor's eyebrows rose slightly. "Yeah?" he said, one corner of his mouth curving upward. "Wait, which one?"

She just tilted her head and smiled at him, catching the tip of her tongue between her teeth, and he adjusted his grip on her hand so that their fingers could interlace.

"So why'd they go all…Cassandra?" she asked after a moment's silence. "I mean, they weren't like that before, right? Wait, is this where Cassandra got it from? The whole pure-human thing?"

"Well…" said the Doctor thoughtfully. "Sometimes a big disaster will leave these sorts of odd cultural quirks. Still, I think it's on its way out, for the most part. Like I said before, timelines can be surprisingly resilient. As for Cassandra, well, she's from very, very far in the future, so it's probably not related. At least, I don't think so. But give it another hundred years or so, I think everything will be back to the way it should be."

Rose was quiet for a moment. "So what you're saying," she said at last, "is that, once again, we didn't _quite_ make it to the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire?"

The Doctor growled at her. "We are not, NOT going to try again."

Rose just laughed and swung their joined hands.

"So we'll just be in here, then," called the Doctor to the group of young men following them as he and Rose stepped into the TARDIS. "See you soon, eh?" He closed the doors.

Rose giggled. "You're terrible," she said, swatting at his chest.

He just grinned at her.

"So, um," she said, taking a step closer to him. A half-smile was playing across her lips.

He waited, watching her.

She bit her lip.

"What?" he asked, his hearts beating faster. He wondered if she was going to kiss him again.

God, he could still taste her.

"I was just wondering," said Rose, reaching a hand toward his chest, "what's with the, uh, _bling_?" She gestured to the white challenger's pendant that he was still wearing, her lips twitching.

"Oh," said the Doctor, blowing out an explosive breath. He shook his head to clear it. "Right, I forgot about that." He pulled the pendant of over his head and looked down at it for a moment.

It sparkled in his hand, reflecting the glow of the console light. He ran his thumb over the top of it and thought, for a moment, about traditions.

He looked up at Rose, whose bright eyes were still dancing with amusement.

"Here you go." He tossed the pendant to her lightly. "A little souvenir for you."

"Thanks," she said, surprised, as she caught it in midair. She pulled it over her head. "Hmm, the cord's a bit long."

"Here," said the Doctor, stepping behind her. "Hold still." He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and used it to cut through the ribbon. He then pulled it up and tied the ends in a bow at the nape of her neck, his fingers brushing her skin. She shivered.

"There you are," he said softly.

Rose tucked her chin to look down at the pendant. "It's pretty," she said with a smile. "Might be too fancy to wear every day, though."

"No, you should wear it," he said, and something in his voice made her look up at him. His eyes were warm and dark and just a little possessive, and Rose felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "It suits you," he added quietly.

"So, ah, we gonna take off?" asked Rose, to break the awkward silence.

"Not quite yet," said the Doctor, stepping away to adjust the view screen.

"What's the hold up?"

"Well," said the Doctor, drawing out the word. "In twenty-six minutes, your little band of ardent admirers is going to try to break through those doors." He gestured to the screen where a group of young men could be seen milling around the outside of the TARDIS. "So I thought that maybe we'd make some popcorn and enjoy the show." He grinned wickedly at her.

Rose's mouth gaped open and then she started to laugh. "Oh, that's genius! I love it! Twenty-six minutes?" she asked, bouncing on her toes.

"Twenty-six minutes."

"You get the popcorn; I'm going to change into my pajamas and fuzzy slippers." She skipped out of the control room. "Make the real stuff? Not the microwave kind? Oh, and we should make hot chocolate, too, yeah?" she called back to him.

The Doctor watched her go. "Anything you want," he said softly.

Later, when the popcorn was almost done, the Doctor leaned back onto the jump seat and flung an arm around Rose's shoulders. "So," he said, "how did you like the Mostly Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire?"

Rose took a sip from her mug and watched a particularly stubborn young man try to pick the lock on the TARDIS doors. (The ship didn't seem to appreciate it much and kept jolting him with a mild electrical shock. Still, Rose figured that she had to admire his persistence.)

"It was OK, I guess," she said finally. She leaned back into him and rested her head on his chest. "Kind of boring in parts, though. All in all, I guess it was a nice place to visit, but I'm glad I'm not being forced to live there." She grinned. "Besides, it's nice to…" she trailed off.

"To what?" he asked.

"Y'know," she said, glancing up at him and blushing a little. "Be home, I guess."

He looked down at her, at the way she fit perfectly into the space under his arm. "Yep."

They sat in happy silence for a few moments before Rose bit her lip and reached over to run a finger over the front of his lapel.

"So…where are we going next?"

_The End_


End file.
